


you’re an asshole (but i love you)

by stilinskisderek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Jealous Lydia, Oblivious Lydia, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:13:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisderek/pseuds/stilinskisderek
Summary: The one where Cora and Lydia are oblivious idiots in love who are so clearly in love that it’s actually painful to watch. (Malia’s words, no one else’s.)





	you’re an asshole (but i love you)

**Author's Note:**

> Well this... took way longer than expected. It started taking so long I was like “lemme just make it longer and add that epilogue I said I might and give it as a birthday present” so here it is. Happy birthday lovely, I hope you enjoy. <3

This night had to be perfect. It _had_ to be. With all the work Lydia put into it if this didn’t rank as one of the best nights of Stiles’ life... well Lydia would not know how to cope.

 

The only good thing going on in her life right now aside from the millions she has been sitting on for the past few months is this goddamn wedding. It has admittedly been a lot to handle but that is all because she made it a lot to handle. 

 

Stiles and Derek were all “no pressure” and “we can always hire someone else” and “this doesn’t need to be a big thing” and Lydia shut them up with a glance every single time. Lydia’s wedding planning bordered the lines of extreme. She is and has always been a perfectionist and that wasn’t going to suddenly change because what she has been planning isn’t for herself.

 

Truth be told, Lydia needed the wedding preparations to be a lot. She needed that distraction. It was either bury herself in more work than usual or mope as she watched from afar as the woman she has fallen for fall for someone else. 

 

The latter was never an option.

 

Lydia has done a lot of things but mope is not and will never be one.

 

Yes, the sight of Cora with Braeden makes her heart clench. Yes, the thought of them is enough to put a bitter taste in her mouth. Yes, she absolutely cannot stand the way Braeden never fails to make Cora smile. Yes, given enough wine she would sit down and let that thought sadden her for longer than necessary but that is not who she is.

 

She has been through a lot. She has ached through years in an abusive relationship, she has been used for her body on more than one occasion, she has had so many near death experiences the taste of dirt and the smell of her decaying body ghost over her every move. She has lost and she has suffered but she always survives and comes out better than she was going in and there is no way in hell all that is going to change over love.

 

Lydia’s been in love with Cora for a long time now. Hell, she probably fell for her before the time she admitted to herself that she did.

 

Three years away in New York did nothing to settle the fluttering of her heart at just the thought of the brunette. Matter of fact, distance only made it worse. She missed being in Cora’s presence whenever she had enough time to just think and relax. When she wasn’t buried in work, she was in between another woman’s legs, anything to try and forget about the woman she left behind. 

 

See, Lydia did not do unrequited love and before she left, that’s exactly where their relationship seemed to lay. Cora just about ignored her existence unless it was necessary which was something Lydia was definitely not used to. But when she came back things seemed to have shifted.

 

Upon the moment they first saw one another again, Cora greeted her with a soft, almost secretive smile. The memory of that look, one she has never given Lydia up until that moment, remains tattooed in her mind ‘til this day. Cora had looked vibrant, more relaxed and settled than she looked when Lydia left. Her smile was wider and her eyes were brighter and her hair was shorter, a look Lydia was and still is incredibly fond of. 

 

Gazes far more capturing than the one Cora had laid upon her when she arrived came after throughout the series of months that followed. Cora actually paid attention to Lydia. Cora actually went out of her way to spend _time_ with Lydia. Cora would make jokes and tell her random facts about astronomy and bring her treats and sandwiches from a bakery near the garage she works at. Cora actually touched her; hand on the shoulder, squeezes of the wrist, grazes of the ankle. Sometimes, Lydia was sure Cora even scented her but that was probably just her imagination running wild.

 

So yes, they had gotten closer after Lydia came back. It was odd, the shift in Cora’s whole attitude towards her. Lydia was skeptical at first given the fact that the change was so sudden but she eased into it quickly and soon enough they became friends, very close friends actually.

 

Everything was as close to perfect as it has ever gotten for Lydia. There had been so many times over the past two years where she thought about possibly making a move or doing anything small to express her interest but fear of her reading it all wrong and messing things up always got to her first.

 

Fear. Fucking fear. A banshee who has fought an endless number of supernatural creatures without a hitch had felt fear for the first time in years because of this magnificent woman. Because of love.

 

This wouldn’t have been a problem, the fear would have eventually subsided if what she was fearful of did not eventually become such a blatant truth.

 

Cora isn’t interested in her. That’s what it all boils down to. 

 

It’s clear in the way she studies Braeden with such uncontrollable passion written all over her features. In the way she sometimes gently runs her hand down Braeden’s arm. In the way they practically hold hands sometimes when they walk. In the way that Cora’s so alive and ecstatic around her. 

 

She has feelings for Braeden and as much as it did hurt for Lydia to admit, she wasn’t and still isn’t going to do anything about it. Who is she to, anyway? She had a chance, or a possible one, and never used it. Now Cora has moved on and that’s okay and she will continue to tell herself that lie because Cora’s happy and that’s what matters the most. Her happiness. 

 

A hand on her hardly clothed thigh drags Lydia from her thoughts. Her eyes avert from the world moving outside the limo’s windows  towards a concerned looking Stiles.

 

“You alright,” he voices with sincere eyes. 

 

Lydia nods, lips pressed tightly together in what she hopes is a partially convincing smile. It probably isn’t given the look Stiles gives her.

 

It’s no surprise, Stiles has known her for most of her life so the half-assed happiness that works well on others don’t do the trick on him.

 

Still, he doesn’t press on. Instead, Stiles offers a soft smile and squeezes the hand on her thigh in encouragement. “Well whatever’s going on, knowing your planning skills tonight is definitely gonna make you forget all about it.”

 

Lydia hums in agreement, resting her hand over Stiles’, freshly manicured fingers intertwining with his own. 

 

“You are goddamn right.” _I hope you are_.

 

—

 

The music in the club is too loud, there are too many bodies and the drinks simply aren’t strong enough to help Cora at least get tipsy.

 

Fuck, she really should’ve brought wolfsbane but it hadn’t crossed her mind until they almost got there.

 

They’re in a coed strip club a few miles outside of Beacon Hills. Cora didn’t even know strip clubs with both male and female performers existed up until now. Not like she would be interested, anyway, for obvious reasons. Unsurprisingly, Erica was the one who discovered it.

 

She’s by the bar, watching her brother and a few of their friends enjoy performances near one out of the several stages set up for strippers who have money pouring all over them. By now Derek should have had his own private show but he rejected their offer and they respected his wishes for once. It is his night, after all.

 

Cora downs the rest of her drink, turns momentarily to ask for another and when she turns back, she’s met by a male stranger who was not there before standing inches too close.

 

“May I help you,” she ponders, not bothering to bite back on the sheer distaste dripping from her tone.

 

“I was thinking maybe I could help you,” the stranger responds. It doesn’t take much to figure out what he means with the way he steps closer, lips stretching into a smirk that does nothing but irritate Cora.

 

“Oh honey, I don’t like men and even if I did, you wouldn’t be the kind of man I’d go for so how about you scurry off to wherever you came from and let me enjoy the rest of my night in peace.” It’s said as more of a command than a question because really, he has no choice. It’s either he leaves by his own free will or Cora gets to enjoy scaring him off.

 

She’d hope, for his own good, that he’d be smart enough to take her warning but instead the man stands there and presses on.

 

Her brows raise at his pathetic efforts, the hint of a smile playing on her face because the showcase is quite laughable. Cora lets him speak for awhile longer before she eventually gets tired and sets her drink down.

 

The marble floor beneath her makes a lovely sound only she can hear as her heels clack against them in her forward movement. She meets the man with a pleasant smile, a hand wrapped around the back of his neck to pull him forward just as the other hand reaches for his balls to squeeze, allowing the slight extension of her claws.

 

The sharp intake of breath followed by the grown he makes has Cora’s smirk stretching even further.

 

“You reek of desperation and frankly, it’s ruining my vibe. If you don’t get the hell away from me within a second of me letting go of you, I will make sure you walk out of here with no balls.” Cora’s fingers tighten to make a point, “though, in your case I’m sure missing balls won’t make much of a difference given the lack thereof.”

 

With that she releases him, taking much joy in the way he scurries off.

 

Cora’s still basking in the joy of her recent acts when another person approaches her. Luckily for them, she recognizes them through their scent before they utter a word.

 

“Damn,” Braeden whistles, “you really know how to send ‘em off.”

 

She shrugs easily, “yeah well, what can I say? Being a lesbian werewolf who looks this great, guys are expected to approach and I am used to making them think twice about coming at a woman like that ever again.”

 

Braeden grins, “it’s kinda sexy.”

 

“Watch your tongue now,” Cora warns, “I might just start thinking you’re tryna get in my pants.” 

 

“Could you blame me if I were?” 

 

She takes a moment to act like she’s actually thinking about it then flashes a smile. “I guess not,” Cora surmises, “but we both know I’m not the one you’re really interested in.”

 

Cora makes a show of looking in the direction of the group where Kira is seated in Malia’s lap in one of the single-person couches closest to one of the stages. 

 

“When do you plan on making a move, anyway? I think it’s pretty obvious they’re into you.”

 

“What, with Malia’s passive aggressiveness and Kira randomly stopping by the shop every other day to awkwardly gift me cupcakes or lunch? I’m sensing major mixed signals. Hard to know what’s going on, ya know,” Braeden acknowledges.

 

Cora nods slowly, eyeing her best friend’s facial features suspiciously. “You know Malia, she’s like that but I think I’ve seen her give you a few suggestive gazes which you always brush off which probably leads to her passive aggressive behavior. And honestly seems to me like Kira’s courting you but I have no idea if that’s something kitsunes do but it looks like that’s what’s happening.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Braeden trails off, clearly not sure what to follow up with so as expected, she switches the subject, “why are you standing here all alone like the party isn’t over there?”

 

“Just wanted drinks.”

 

“Which you could’ve ordered over like the rest of us,” her friend points out as she crosses her arms over her chest, “lemme guess, wanna be all gloomy over Lydia in peace?”

 

Cora glares at her. “I am not glooming.”

 

“Well whatever you _are_ doing is no better. You need to either find a way to get over her or grow some balls and ask her out.”

 

“You don’t think I’ve been trying,” she hisses despite herself but whenever she thinks of all her failed efforts Cora can’t help but get a little bitter.

 

“I’ve been trying.” Her tone is softer now, almost as though she has accepted defeat, “but lately she’s been so tense around me. She blatantly ignores me even being there and I have no idea what I’ve done wrong. We were good, more than good. Matter of fact I thought any day she’d just kiss me out of the blue and we’d work on becoming... I don’t know, more... but she just completely shuts me out now and I have no idea what to do about it.”

 

“Well you can do what I know you’d do with any other girl and just... talk to her,” Braeden suggests as if it is that easy.

 

Cora wishes it was.

 

“This isn’t any other girl. This is Lydia. She’s... different. She—“

 

“Isn’t just another girl you wanna hook up with and that scares you.”

 

“No, I—“

 

“You are too much of a coward to fully come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with her so instead you’re using her odd behavior as a pathetic excuse even though we both know that isn’t something that would ever actually stop you from just going for it.”

 

“Can you just—“

 

“Let you sit here and not do anything about your one chance at true happiness? Nope, that’s not the kinda friend I am. Sorry.” There was nothing apologetic about her tone or the grin on her face and Cora kind of wanted to strangle her and hug her at the same time.

 

Instead she groans, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion. “You are so annoying.”

 

Braeden shrugs, “true but you love me and my annoyance is what gets you to do some of the shit you gotta do.”

 

“Why are you always so right?”

 

“Black excellence.”

 

Cora cracks a smile so wide her cheeks hurt before playfully shoving Braeden.

 

Her best friend laughs in response before taking hold of her hand. “So tomorrow you go and try to get your woman. Tonight though, you’re going to let go.”

 

And well, who was Cora to argue with an offer like that?

 

—

 

Cora’s nervous.

 

She’s fucking nervous. For the first time since... fucking never. She’s _Cora Hale_ ,goddamnit. She’s the reckless Hale, the one who isn’t scared of anything despite knowing that living life the way she does, her death could be just around the corner but that never stops her.

 

She kicked a guy in the shins when she was eight because he was looking at Laura the wrong way. She spat on a college student when she was twelve because they made her younger brother cry. She got into a bar fight with a group of guys after they made a homophobic comment towards Derek. She’s challenged alphas, provoked batshit crazy witches for fun, walked into a burning house to help an elderly woman out safely. The list of her rash decisions is endless yet in every single one of those situations, she didn’t even flinch.

 

Yet here she stands, quite literally shaking in her boots at the sight of the woman she loves, at the thought of doing what she’s about to do.

 

This would possibly be easier if Lydia didn’t somehow look better than usual on this day— which Cora didn’t even think was possible but the woman continues to surprise her. She’s wearing a black button with a three buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows to match her black faux suede open toed ankle strap heels, paired with that burgundy leather skirt that never fails to make Cora want to help her out of it.

 

She’s an image, really, pacing back and forth between the floor to ceiling windows and the desk that’s way too big that pairs with a chair that’s more like a throne. Lydia’s focus shoots back and forth between a few papers in one hand and a phone that’s practically the size of her face in the other.

 

Everything about Lydia screams power through hard work and fierce determination and it makes Cora’s chest swell with pride.

 

She has to push back the thought in her head that screams, “that’s my girl” because Lydia isn’t. Not really. Not yet.

 

Lydia’s so absorbed in her work that she startles when Cora knocks her knuckles against the wooden inner frame of the door.

 

Cora gives her an amused grin when she retains herself, eyebrows lowering and lips loosening as her eyes widen slightly. She looks surprised to say the least, possibly a little speechless and maybe even a bit relieved despite the way her heart rockets.

 

“Didn’t mean to alarm you,” Cora says in greeting and in apology as she steps into the office.

 

Lydia seems to tense all over which has Cora halting her movements. That is not the response she wanted or expected but it is definitely preferred to the way Lydia morphs back into her default body language that screams authority and “I’m above you but I won’t say it because I’m above that also.”

 

She gives Cora a slow once over as if she’s gum her heel had just stepped on and Cora would actually fall for that had it not been for the underlying scent of arousal her born-wolf nose picks up in the room. It’s masked by rage and sadness and despair but it’s still there. Along with relief.

 

“What are you doing here, Cora?”

 

“Just came in for a visit.”

 

Lydia scoffs, “right.”

 

Cora doesn’t know how to act now because Lydia’s attitude towards her isn’t what she expected it to be. She knows Lydia has been rather cold towards her lately but never downright rude.

 

“Wow. I feel welcomed,” she all but snarls.

 

“Oh? You want to feel welcomed? For what? You show up here, uninvited. Who even knows how you got in to begin with, let alone in _my_ office—“

 

“The people here know me, Lydia. Or have you forgotten the many times I’ve come by for lunch?”

 

“It’s been months. You haven’t been back here in _months_ ,” Lydia hisses.

 

“Maybe because the last five times I came here to see you you were at a meeting or with a client or buried in paper work or juggling fucking balls. Anything so you wouldn’t see me, I guess.”

 

Lydia opens her mouth but shuts it just as fast, the smell of guilt circulating throughout the room but doing nothing to change the look on her face.

 

“If you haven’t noticed, Cora, I’m a busy woman. I’m probably the busiest person in Beacon Hills. I’m probably one of the busiest people in California. You don’t get where I am without sacrifice and what I have to sacrifice is time. Precious time which you’re wasting by being here and disturbing me from my work.”

 

“Oh wow, my fucking apologies for wanting to drop by and see you,” Cora scolds, “we haven’t spoken properly in awhile and I thought, hmm, Lydia’s been doing a whole lot lately maybe she’d like a break or some company and maybe I could take her out for something to eat. I thought this would be a good chance to—“

 

_To ask you to be my date to the wedding before taking you on a real date_ , but she stops herself before the words actually leave her mouth despite the way Lydia has perked up, waiting for her to speak.

 

“Know what? Forget it. It was stupid from the start,” Cora decides, “sorry for disturbing you with my lowly presence, your highness.”

 

She does a quick bow for dramatics and avoids eye contact as she leaves so Lydia wouldn’t be able to notice the hurt written all over her face. Lydia may not be a werewolf but she’s always been particularly and annoyingly good at reading people.

 

Cora almost expects Lydia to say something as she walks out the door, but she doesn’t.

 

—

 

“You’re a dumbass.”

 

Lydia’s gaze falls on Erica with a glare but the blonde does nothing more but take another sip of her beer.

 

Allison’s hand rests over hers and strokes gently in a comforting manner with her voice oozing sincerity when she speaks, “I understand why you reacted the way you did but it wasn’t very kind. I think Cora was trying to show you that she cares and you just flicked her off like that... honestly Lydia, you kind of owe her an apology.”

 

Kira nods sympathetically from where she sits on the opposite side of the booth, cozied up between Erica and Malia. 

 

“Honestly, the both of you are idiots,” Malia comments, “like seriously, such big idiots who are so in love it’s almost painful to watch. Just about everyone in this town know how the two of you feel about each other except for... you guys. Or maybe you guys do know but are just too pussy to face those feelings and work it out but either way the past few years have been an annoying and ongoing tale of ‘will they finally confess’ and I’ve just about had it so you guys need to work it out. I love the both of you and I’d maybe possibly give my life for your happiness but if you guys are gonna continue to play oblivious idiots, well...”

 

Lydia wants to gape at the words but she knows Malia’s right. She at least knows for certain that she has feelings for Cora and she has been clued to a mutual thing going on between them more than once but always pushed it aside due to fear, deciding that what they had was enough for her.

 

Truth be told, it wasn’t. Even if they were still them, it wouldn’t be and she’s just about had it with letting her worries determine her happiness.

 

—

 

The wedding venue is beautiful.

 

It takes place in a beautiful, fairly extravagant garden just a few miles out of town.

 

Everything goes off without a hitch from Lydia being escorted down the aisle by Erica and Boyd’s twins to Stiles being walked down the aisle by his father to the vows to the rings to the kiss to all the cheers. 

 

The reception seems to go even better, though it got a bit breezy on the slightly overdecorated rooftop—because there was no way in hell Lydia was going to let them have the reception and the wedding in the same place no matter how many times Stiles told her it was fine, she needed extra work to occupy her time anyway— things seem to be perfect.

 

Scott’s best man speech had just about everyone in the crowd crying from laughter and though Laura’s speech was a little more on the soft side, it was still filled with the Hale wit and dry humor that was most definitely a crowd pleaser. There was a lot of drinking and dancing and mingling and the music was too loud and more than one accidental spill was made and some people already had too much wine but it was all perfect nonetheless.

 

Lydia stands by the ledge for most of the joy filling the room. She knows she can and probably should go out and join everyone else but she wants time to herself, to finally think for today. She has been thinking quite a lot since her decision to finally talk to Cora but it never feels like it’s enough. Regardless of how many times she’s talked herself through the words and practiced them in her head, the thought of actually doing what she’s been preparing for makes her feel uneasy. She wants to but she doesn’t know _how_.

 

So Lydia stands by the sideline, content with watching everyone while not so successfully trying to avoid gazing at Cora who looked absolutely breathtaking tonight, until Danny drags her onto the dance floor despite all her protests. From then on she’s being shuffled around from dance partner to dance partner because while she is mostly all work and no play these days, Lydia does know how to let loose and have a good time. Plus, she’s a great dancer so there’s that.

 

She enjoyed herself up so much that the fact that her feet were killing her didn’t really matter.

 

Thankfully, after a two more upbeat dances the DJ switched the music to ones of a slower pace. She dances in sync with Malia for awhile, back pressed up against the taller woman’s front with both their arms wrapped around her middle as they sway to the music. To the eye of a stranger, it might look intimate but Lydia and Malia have become very comfortable with one another over the years and this is what platonic is to them. This comfortable and liberating affection.

 

They dance for awhile longer before Stiles is stealing Lydia away with a barely there apologetic look towards Malia who moves onto Allison. 

 

“You look gorgeous, as always,” Stiles compliments as he intertwines the fingers of his left with her right and wraps an arm around her waist. 

 

“Of course I do.”

 

Stiles scoffs but it’s warm. Lydia smiles as she lets her head fall on his shoulder.

 

“Remember our first dance?”

 

Lydia hums, “how could I forget? You actually made my night.”

 

“I think it’s the Stilinski charm.” This has them both chuckling. “Who would’ve thought we would’ve ended up here?”

 

“Definitely not me,” Lydia responds, “but I don’t regret a thing.”

 

She doesn’t. It’s probably the most honest she’s been all week.

 

They stay like that for a long time, through multiple different songs, enjoying the embrace and familiarity of it all.

 

Lydia feels tranquil. Happy.

 

That feeling lasts up until the moment she lifts her head and catches sight of Braeden and Cora slow dancing across the room. 

 

Cora’s smiling and saying something into Braeden’s ear which has the beauty laughing, full and joyful. She looks happy, relaxed, in love.

 

Lydia freezes where she stands and Stiles stops with her. She only lets herself look for a few seconds longer, long enough to let herself shove everything she planned to tell Cora away before telling Stiles she has to go use the bathroom then all but runs away from the scene.

 

Lydia lets her tears escape her eyes as she rushes down the stairs, wanting nothing more than to get as far away from there as possible. Maybe as far away from Beacon Hills as possible.

 

A part of her knows she may be overreacting, possibly, but after she’s been working herself up to speaking to Cora since last night all for her to see what she just had... the look in Cora’s eyes... it became too much in that moment.

 

She’s better than this. She’s better than this crying, runaway mess but she just needs to breathe. 

 

_Fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed in New York_.

 

Lydia’s so distracted by her thoughts and the tears blurring her vision that she hardly notices when someone shouts her name. It takes her awhile to register, long enough for the person to catch up to her slowing steps and put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Lydia.”

 

She turns, yanking her body from under the unwarranted contact as if she had just been shocked.

 

Cora stares back at her, eyes a little wide and brows slightly raised with her mouth pressed into a thin line.

 

“What,” she spits. It’s not a question, not even an invitation for a response.

 

“What do you mean ‘what’? You just ran out from a wedding you planned out of nowhere. I mean I know you love to have your dramatic moments but that one really took the gold.”

 

“Oh and what the hell do you care that I left? Not like you’ve been all that interested in me lately anyway,” Lydia spits.

 

Cora almost looks baffled by the accusation. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Since when have I not cared about you?”

 

She laughs but it’s bitter, nothing lighthearted or welcoming about it. Her arms cross over her chest and she takes a tentative step towards Cora. “Really Cora? You’re _really_ gonna act like I haven’t been some ‘I’ll acknowledge her when it’s convenient’ type of friend— wait no, I don’t even think friend is accurate for what we are at this point.”

 

It’s a low blow. Lydia isn’t even sure how they got there, how it got to the point where she let those words slip out so fast. They’ve only been standing in front of one another for a minute at most by this point yet here they are, in the midst of starting an argument.

 

Cora’s anger seems to melt into confusion like she’s talking to a child who hasn’t mastered their mother tongue yet and it only spites Lydia more because she doesn’t get to look like that. She doesn’t get to act like she has no idea what Lydia’s talking about.

 

“You know you’re making absolutely no sense, right?”

 

“What part of what I’ve said makes no sense to you exactly?”

 

“Well I don’t know, Lydia. How about everything from the ‘not caring’ to us apparently not even being friends anymore? I mean I’ve noticed your little attitude lately but I thought you’ve just been extremely stressed out and started taking it out on everyone. Now you’re saying—“

 

“That we aren’t exactly the definition of friends since we hardly interact to begin with since you’re always preoccupied? Yes, I suppose that is what I’m saying, Cora.”

 

“Wow it’s almost like I didn’t pass by your office just the other day to spend some time with you.”

 

“Oh so months of you acting like I’m barely there and dropping by once is supposed to just, what? Magically make everything alright?”

 

Cora’s nostrils flare and her eyes fall shut momentarily like she’s trying to calm herself down. “Did I not explain to you that I stopped showing up because every time before that you’d always have some reason to not see me? It gets tiring, Lydia.”

 

Lydia huffs, arms folding over her chest. “You know what else is tiring? Looking forward to spending time with someone just for them to cut that time short to go see someone else or for them to get distracted texting someone else in the middle of it or for them to hardly pay attention to me because they’re too busy thinking of someone else!”

 

“What the fuck are you talking about Lydia?”

 

“Braeden!”

 

“Braeden?”

 

“Braeden!” Lydia repeats. This feels childish. It feels fucking ridiculous and it only riles her up even more. “I tried to not care, okay? I tried to tell myself that I’m just making things up. I’m being irrational but I see the way you look at her and Cora... It hurts. Every time I see you two together it hurts because I want that to be me. I want it to be us. We were doing so well and then she steps into the picture and...”

 

Her words get caught in her throat and it’s then that she realizes she’s crying. It explains the way Cora’s features have softened, the way she cautiously steps forward.

 

“Lydia... you do realize that when Braeden and I first met it was business right? We were starting a business together? The garage? Sure it’s not your big high class job but it took up a lot of time in the beginning and that’s why I always got distracted or had to cut things short because we had things to handle. And yeah we got closer but not in that way. We’re close friends, almost like sisters. The only reason I spent like every second with her was because you started shutting me out and aside from her and family and the pack, you’re the only person I ever wanna be around, Lydia.”

 

Lydia takes two steps back, not even understanding how she’s able to hold herself up right as she processes the words or at least tries to. 

 

Her efforts show themselves as useless when Cora mutters, “can’t believe I’m in love with such a moron.”

 

The strawberry blonde blinks a few times as if that’d adjust her hearing so she could be she’d heard that right, “what...?”

 

Cora gives her a look of disbelief. “You can’t say you didn’t know.”

 

Lydia blinks.

 

“Holy shit... you know for some so smart you’re one hell of an idiot. I think how I feel about you is obvious. I might as well walk around with ‘in love with Lydia Martin’ on my forehead, it’s that obvious. I don’t just hang around anyone as much as I do with you. I don’t just wake up in the middle of the night to get any random person a burger because they’re craving something greasy after a stressful day at work. I don’t just give out massages! Not even to my own siblings! I don’t practically jump into anyone else’s lap whenever they’re around. I don’t come close to holding anyone’s hands unless they’re small and delicate and always perfectly manicured. I don’t fucking sit and sob over Titanic and the Notebook with just anybody. I don’t listen to hours and hours of work stuff I’m not actually interested to help just anybody. I don’t spend hours on my feet shopping with just anybody. I don’t do weekend road trips to conferences with just anybody. I don’t spend hours teaching just any woman how to bake even though she should know how to bake because she’s smart as hell! And it’s baking! I don’t do ‘platonic dates’ or ‘platonic cuddling’ or secretive and meaningful glances from across a room or slow dances on the beach. I don’t do getting ready to jump in front of any bullet or arrow or thing or person that could harm you because the thought of living without you is just too much to handle. I don’t stand in the middle of parking lots confessing my feelings for just anyone. I don’t do these things, Lydia. I don’t do them for anyone else. Just you. Only you.”

 

Lydia’s bound speechless. Hell, she can barely even breathe so words are just unrealistic at that moment.

 

All she can do is gaze at Cora who’s panting a little, words wringing in her ears as her vision blurs.

 

“I love you, Lydia. I’m _in love_ with you. I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who didn’t realize but... now you know. After almost a decade of keeping all that shit in, you know. Do with that what you—“

 

The words fade behind Lydia’s lips. She didn’t even realize she closed the distance between them until their lips met in an almost painful collision. It’s nothing like how she expected their first kiss to be the many times she had pictured it. It’s kind of off and a little awkward and a bit uncomfortable because it happened so suddenly and their bodies are touching but they aren’t holding each other and Cora’s completely still which makes for a kiss as successful as one could guess but it’s happening. 

 

It’s happening until it’s not because Lydia’s pulling away, noting that Cora is still motionless.

 

She takes a step back, eyes boring into Cora’s, trying to find anything. All she sees is utter shock, possibly disbelief.

 

Lydia moves to take a few steps back but barely even makes one before arms are wrapping around her waist and dragging her in until their lips meet again.

 

This. This is what she pictured. This.

 

Cora’s lips are soft, plump and moist because she licks them too much. They’re welcoming and warm and ignite a fire inside of Lydia that she can hardly stand. The milky skin of her upper arm feels almost as soft as her dark, thick locks of hair underneath Lydia’s finger tips. The arm wrapped around her feel protective yet fearful, holding her close as if if it doesn’t she’ll vanish. Lydia’s tears are wetting the skin the thumb of Cora’s settled hand strokes. The smile her lips almost form restrained by the determined and enthusiastic press of Cora’s lips.

 

It’s all tenderness and caress until Cora’s tongue slides against her bottom lip. The earlier passion remains but with the underlying rise of heat.

 

Their wet glide of their tongues is warm and inviting but fierce like the both of them are trying to make a point.

 

Lydia knows she lets moan slip, tightens the hand she has in Cora’s hair when she can feel her smirk and yanks lightly. It doesn’t give the desired effect but it’s not like she’s complaining about the groan it elicited either.

 

They stand there just like that for what feels like forever yet not long enough, saying everything that’s been building up for years through the kiss.

 

When they finally break away it’s so Lydia can say it herself because she’s spent too much time preparing herself for those three little words to get out just for her to not actually say them.

 

“I love you.” It’s breathy because she’s panting lightly and it sounded kind of choked because she’s still trying to catch her breathe —and holy fuck, it was just a kiss, how is this happening to her?— but Cora smiles the same nonetheless.

 

“I know.”

 

Lydia grins, opening her mouth to comment on how nerdy that was when someone shouts “finally” in the distance.

 

They both startle momentarily then look up to see everyone gathered towards the end of the rooftop, looking down at them with wide smiles and thumbs up and fist pumps.

 

“Well, seems like privacy’s off the table,” Cora mutters.

 

“As is for any couple in our pack, we’ll just have to get used to it.”

 

Cora chuckles as she pulls Lydia closer again, smile beaming before she’s pressing her lips to hers.

 

Lydia accepts naturally as if they’ve been doing this for years rather than just the past ten minutes.

 

In the background, their friends cheer.

 

—

 

**Epilogue**

 

**_1 year and 5 months later_ **

 

“Are you ready for this?”

 

Lydia looks up at Stiles who meets her with sincere eyes.

 

She breathes in, allowing the chills that follow to run through her. “Honestly, I’m scared shitless but there’s nowhere else I want to be, nothing else I want to do more.”

 

Stiles smiles and kisses the back of her palm, “you’ve got this. Plus, you look stunning, as always.”

 

She does, of course. The jumpsuit she’s in is backless with a deep V neck and white, of course, to match the occasion. She had her ivory heels made specifically for her, a strap around the angle with the thick heals laced with diamonds. The hair that is thankfully unbothered by a veil because they decided to skip that tradition is braided into a crown. Her make up is simple, the only slight pop being the faint silver glitter that’s dabbed above where her blush is applied.

 

“I know,” she responds, grin playing at her features.

 

Stiles holds his arm out and she loops her own around it, madonna lilies held in her free hand.

 

They step out together onto the beach. When Cora had agreed to a wedding outside of America, Lydia promising she could and would cover costs for travels if need be, she should’ve expected that they’d end up on a beach somewhere, Tikehau Island to be specific.

 

The walk to the venue is short lived but it’s enough time for Lydia to let her confidence bloom. When they step before the petal layered aisle, they’re met by broad and delighted smiles and even some tears.

 

They make their way down the aisle, Lydia smiling at her loved ones as they watch up until she’s only a few steps away from where Cora stands looking as stunning as ever.

 

Her hair’s down but one side is tucked behind her ear. She’s in a pantsuit, more eggshell than white. The slacks are fitted and stop right before her white pumps. The suit jacket is open in a V almost as deep as Lydia’s to reveal that Cora wears nothing underneath but there are four buttons below that hug Cora’s curves the way they are sealed. 

 

Lydia wants her out of the clothes. All of them. Just the thought has her blushing at the reminder of the way they were all over each other the previous morning in bed before they went their separate ways for their bachelorette day. Yes: day.

 

When she finally stands before Cora, her soon to be wife greets her with endearing eyes. 

 

Lydia hardly hears any of what the priest is saying because she was so wrapped up in Cora. She only tunes in when Cora begins to say her vows but that’s also because she’s so wrapped up in Cora.

 

“...I remember it clearly. I was delivering a message from my brother and was pretty clear about how serious it was and in return, you sassed me. You challenged me and I thought ‘wow I could really fall for that girl’ and would’ve probably kissed you right there if Stilinski hadn’t ruined the moment,” this got laughs from the crowd but none louder than Lydia’s. “I did fall for you though. I still am, every single day, every moment I’m with you, I fall harder. No surprise there though, right? Because who could stop themselves from falling for someone like you? You’re bright and affectionate and wise and protective and so beautiful in every which way it hurts sometimes. I love you so much it honest to god _hurts_. You make my life so much better. Even with our stupid arguments and little peeves, you always make me feel loved and alive. When everything back in Beacon Hills was going to shit, you were what kept me going. Sure, there was family, but more than anything it was you. I thought about all you wanted to achieve and everything you had going for yourself and wanted to do as much as I could to make sure you got there, to protect you from whatever would harm those goals. And when you left, I thought of you every single day because that would always be enough. Whenever I was so close to my breaking point, all I had to do was think about your determined eyes and your glowing smile and vibrant laugh and it was enough. You anchored me even when you weren’t there. You kept me going, you kept me thriving and I want to be all that for you and more. I promise I will be. I promise to hold you and guide you out of your darkest days and cheer you on during your best. I promise to be there for you and always look to solve any problems that come our way by your side. I promise to keep trying to teach you how to bake even though you’ll probably end up burning our future home down.”

 

Lydia tries to glare but all attempts are lose when Cora starts chuckling through the tears welling up in her eyes. Her laugh’s always been contagious.

 

“I will stand by you through everything, Lydia. I will be right by you when you eventually take over the world with that far too powerful mind of yours. And our children, whoever they decide to be and whatever they decide do, will be fucking wonderful. Just as wonderful as their mothers. Our future is going to be beautiful because it’s you and it’s me and we’ve come so far and we will only go further. I love you so much Lydia. There will never be enough words to describe just how much you mean to me and I hate it but that’s just how powerful my feelings for you are.”

 

Lydia’s sobbing by then, trying to be as silent as possible while mentally thanking Erica that her makeup is waterproof because she’d look like an absolute mess if it wasn’t. She has half the mind to say to hell with it all and rush forward and kiss Cora now but she remembers her own vows and disappointedly decides against it.

“Cora, on our first date, well the first official date, we went go kart racing and I felt sprightly. Over the next few months, we went hiking and indoor skydiving and I actually flew a plane and I realized that this is how it’s always gonna feel when I’m with you. Exhilarating. You are my everything. You’re the Ryan to my Rachel, number-one supporter and future mother of my children, the moon to my stars and I know in your head you’re like ‘I’m marrying this corny ass woman’ but I mean it. And I vow, going into our lives together, to be everything you want and everything you need even if at certain times you won’t understand what you need, I’ll be there. I vow to love you as you deserve to be loved: with admiration, adoration, passion, pragmatism and respect, and to treat you like the woman you are, even when you’re rolling around in the mud with the guys and lean in to kiss me with dirt caked lips. I vow to support your interests and nourish your passions: from your sculpting, to the cars you fix, to your delightful cooking, up to and including your ridiculous pranks and nerdy comic book reading. I vow to remain loyal to you physically, emotionally and spiritually. I vow to take you seriously when you need to be taken seriously, and to laugh with you the rest of the time: because serious moments with you are rare anyway and I love it. Growing up in a serious family and dealing with serious things has always been too much for me, this change of pace is everything.”

Cora grins at this.

“I vow to take care of you even when you’re too stubborn to accept it. I know you’re a strong woman, I love that about you, but everyone need help sometimes and I will always be there to help you. I vow to remain your rock and anchor as you are mine, creating peace of mind from destructive thoughts. I vow to carry you through anything and everything. And I vow to remain by your side as we grow old, to knitting, and gardening, and eating butterscotch candies. Cora, you are not only adventurous but you are the never ending adventure, and that is not something to be taken lightly. I love you more than anyone I’ve ever loved before, and I seriously cannot wait to kiss you and tie this thing off so we can spend the rest of our lives together.”

By the time she’s done, the both of them are crying to the point where they’re trembling as they try to put the rings on each other’s fingers.

 

They’re so wrapped up in one another that they barely hear it when the priest gives his blessing up until it’s time to say:

 

“I do.”

 

The priest barely finishes the permission for them to kiss before they’re doing so.

 

The kiss feels like their first but even better, more explosive.

 

They probably kiss longer and more explicitly than they should in front of family and friends but they don’t care.

 

It doesn’t seem like anyone else does either because in the background, they’re all cheering.


End file.
